


i love how you take my breath away (i'm thunderstruck)

by zanthetran



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Porn Without Plot, Smut, a bit of cunnilingus, as a treat, strap on, that's really it folks just some good ol fashioned fuckin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25811167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthetran/pseuds/zanthetran
Summary: the Doctor gets the strap for the first time (in this body). That's literally it.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	i love how you take my breath away (i'm thunderstruck)

**Author's Note:**

> title from: thunderstruck by owl city

Yaz knows how to make the Doctor cum.

She’s good at it (and if she’s being cocky — _really_ good at it). She knows every spot that makes the Doctor moan, or scratch blunt nails roughly down Yaz’s back, or grip her hair in her fist while Yaz pumps her fingers into her roughly.

The Doctor isn’t the first woman Yaz has been with, though she does get the title of first _alien_ Yaz has been with (which, Yaz doesn’t think she’ll add to that list any time soon). And when it comes down to it — when she reaches for Yaz at the end of the day, needing _something_ — the Doctor really is just a woman.

A woman who isn’t going to cum any time soon, apparently.

Yaz licks up through her and flicks her clit with the tip of her tongue, the Doctor’s moan filling her ears in response. She smirks against her and pumps her fingers under her chin, holding her hips down with a palm flat against her stomach. A hand grips Yaz’s hair tight and the Doctor’s chest heaves, a thin sheen of sweat covering her body. Her face is contorted in...not _pain_ , exactly, but some type of frustration, and Yaz can hear it in the breathy noises that escape her mouth.

She pulls away and stops her fingers, wiping her chin with the back of her other hand. “Do you wanna stop?” she asks.

The Doctor’s eyes fly open and she looks down her body at Yaz, eyes guilty and apologetic. “Can we?” she asks quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Yaz shakes her head. “Not a big deal, sometimes it just doesn’t happen,” she says and lifts herself from where she had been laying on the end of the bed. She wipes her fingers on a towel hung over the back of the desk chair and starts to search around the floor for her underwear (they have to be in the room at least — she’s pretty sure the Doctor didn’t take them off when they were still in the hallway). She climbs back onto the bed after pulling them on and lays back on a plush pillow. The Doctor immediately rolls over and wraps one arm around her waist, pulling her close and slotting her head under Yaz’s chin.

“Does that happen a lot?” the Doctor asks into the quiet of the room, save for the ever present hum of the tardis.

“What, not bein’ able to cum?”

The Doctor nods.

Yaz shrugs. “Sometimes, I guess. Unless you have some alien problem you haven’t told me about yet,” she quips.

She feels the Doctor smile against her chest and she imagines her eyes closed probably, fingers stroking circles and lines and dots on Yaz’s ribcage.

“Don’t think it’s a problem,” she says, her voice soft and obviously on the verge of sleep. Yaz is exhausted herself — they had literally climbed a mountain today and when they had moved into the bedroom to go to sleep, the Doctor had pushed her against the closed door and fucked her within an inch of her life (to which it was only kind to repay the favor). So yeah, she’s tired, and she feels sleep washing over her body like soft waves as she closes her eyes and lets herself get lost in the feel of the Doctor’s fingers against her skin and breath on her neck.

“Maybe it’s the execution,” Yaz mumbles into blonde hair.

“Hm?”

“Maybe you need something new,” she says. “Like a toy or something.”

They haven’t dived deep into their mutual sexual exploration yet — it’s not like they’ve been doing this _long,_ and it doesn’t ever seem like a good time to say, “Hey, y’know what would be fun? If I bent you over and fucked you with a strap until you scream my name”.

No, that just seems like bad form all round, to be honest.

The Doctor yawns big and looks up at her, eyes blinking slowly as the tardis dims the lights in the room so they can sleep. “Brilliant idea, Yasmin Khan,” she says, kissing the underside of her jaw before laying her head back down on her chest. “Always got brilliant ideas, you.”

They don’t mention it for a few days. It’s not like they have a lot of time to talk about it between the alarms on the tardis shooting them god knows where to save however many people from who knows what, and in their off time the Doctor is either doing repairs (read: tinkering) on the tardis or they’re both having breakfast with the boys or Yaz is back at her flat for a few days to live Real Life at least a little bit.

When they _do_ end up talking about it, the Doctor blurts out, “I want you to fuck me.”

Yaz drops the bowl in the sink and it breaks into three pieces. The only sound is the water running from the tap and her heart thudding in her ears because no matter how many times she hears those words and does _exactly that,_ they still make her heart pound in anticipation. The seconds that pass between them feel like hours before Yaz finally pulls herself from her still form and clears her throat (because isn’t _she_ supposed to be the “top” in this relationship?).

“Thought I were already doin’ that,” she says, shutting off the tap and picking up the bowl pieces. She tosses them in the bin and turns around, leaning back against the counter.

The Doctor huffs and seems to think over her words. “I meant with what a toy. Haven’t tried one in this body,” she says, looking down at herself.

“Ever?” Yaz asks, though she knows that’s a stupid question. I mean, she could’ve tried it when it was the four of them but Yaz hasn’t ever seen her use a bedroom so she’s not sure she has one, and even then, they had quite a bit keeping them busy.

The Doctor shakes her head. “Not in this one.” Her face lights up. “We can make it an experiment!”

This time it’s Yaz shaking her head. “Nope,” she says, stepping forward and wrapping her still wet arms around the Doctor. “Not callin’ it that.”

The soft sigh that escapes the Doctor’s mouth almost every time they kiss will never get old, and neither will pushing her up against the counter in Yaz’s flat and trailing kisses over her neck, her collar bone, the underside of her jaw. She tugs at the earring with her teeth and the Doctor holds her close by her shirt, one arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Yaz licks a long swipe up her neck and sucks lightly at her thrumming double pulse. The Doctor sucks in a hiss through her teeth when Yaz scrapes her own over soft skin. She kisses up her jaw and pulls at her ear lobe with her teeth. “Now?” she husks in her ear.

“Definitely now,” the Doctor blurts out immediately.

It’s all the invitation Yaz needs to pull away completely and slip their fingers together, leading her to her bedroom.

And you know, thank god Yaz owns a quite nice selection of various toys because she’s pretty sure she wouldn’t make it to the tardis with the way the Doctor looks at her like she literally hung the stars in the sky. They keep far enough apart to have an actual conversation about it and what the Doctor wants and Yaz ends up naked, harness tight on her hips as she kneels between the Doctor’s legs. The dildo juts out from her pelvis and it feels really obscene, even though like, they’re literally about to have sex.

 _Still_.

The Doctor sits up and pulls Yaz’s face to her own, connecting their lips softly. Her thumb rubs against her cheek and her other hand cups around the back of her neck, pulling her down as she lays back against the bed. Yaz’s muscle memory kicks in and she licks at a chapped bottom lip, nipping lightly with her teeth. The Doctor parts her lips easily and Yaz’s tongue darts forward while one hand trails up her stomach, over her hips. She palms one breast and the Doctor moans into her mouth when she pinches her nipple and rolls it between her fingers.

She trails kisses down the Doctor’s neck and her teeth scrape the top of her breast. The Doctor’s back arches up into her touch and she takes her entire breast into her mouth, tongue lapping at the hard nipple. The Doctor lets out a breathy moan and her hand tangles in thick brown locks, tugging none too lightly. Yaz bites down on skin and the hand in her hair loosens it’s grip. She licks the skin between her breasts and then starts moving lower, teeth grazing over her stomach, biting down softly on sharp hipbones.

“ _Oh_ ,” the Doctor breathes, head falling back against the pillows at the first swipe of Yaz’s tongue. Her neck tenses as Yaz flicks up at her clit and her legs fall open wider, spreading herself even more.

Beautiful, is the word that comes to mind. The Doctor is breathtakingly stunning like this — open and wanting and letting herself live in the moment instead of the past, present, and future all at the same time. She swallows hard and Yaz watches the way her face scrunches up as she does something particularly clever with her tongue.

Yaz could eat her out all day and not get tired of it (though she might have to stop for breaks in between, her jaw really isn’t made for continuous use). Every sense is filled with the Doctor; the thick smell filling her nose, the salty musk on her tongue, the Doctor’s little breathy moans for every quick lick and longer more drawn out groans for when Yaz flattens her tongue. She’s enveloped by the Doctor and she has half a mind to just make her cum like this, because apparently it’s working for her today.

She keeps herself on track, though, and gently pushes one finger in to the first knuckle.

“Oh, Yaz,” the Doctor says, voice husky. She looks down her body and they lock eyes and Yaz can feel the throb of her clit underneath her tongue and _fuck._ Yaz sucks on her clit as she easily pushes her finger in all the way, and the Doctor’s back arches again before falling back on the bed. She pumps slowly and can feel the Doctor clenching hard around her. The hand in her hair tightens when she slowly adds another finger and curls them up. The Doctor’s hips lift from the bed in surprise and she bites back a loud moan.

“Oh, _fu_ —“ her words are cut off when Yaz suddenly pulls away, removing her (now very wet) fingers and wiping her chin with the back of her hand. The Doctor’s eyes shoot open and she looks frantic. “Why did you stop?”

Yaz sits back on her heels, the dildo still standing erect from her hips. She raises an eyebrow. The Doctor’s eyes fall to the toy and a pink tongue darts between her lips.

“Ready?” Yaz asks.

The Doctor doesn’t even look up when she nods quickly. “Yeah,” she breathes.

Yaz leans over to the nightstand and picks up the little bottle of lube, pouring some out into her hand and putting the bottle back. She quickly works it over the entire shaft and wipes her hand clean on the sheet next to her. She lines up the tip of the toy and places one palm flat against the Doctor’s toned stomach as she slowly moves her hips forward just enough to slip the first inch in. The Doctors knees fall open a bit wider and she bites hard on her bottom lip, looking down between them where the toy is slowly but surely slipping in inch by inch. Yaz watches too, unable to tear her eyes away from the way the toy disappears inside the Doctor’s dripping cunt. When she bottoms out she stops, heart already racing even though they’ve barely even started. She looks back up at the Doctor’s face.

“You okay?” Yaz asks.

The Doctor’s eyes are closed and she takes a deep breath, lets it out, nods her head once. This whole thing has Yaz’s head spinning — she’s the first one to see the Doctor like this, or well, she’s the first one to see the Doctor like this as a woman. It’s a big deal.

Yaz runs her hands softly over the Doctor’s legs, up her calves and over her bony knees and strong thighs before she braces herself on either side of her. She slowly pulls out halfway, and the Doctor’s shocked gasp has her pushing back in a bit at the same pace. She looks down to where their bodies meet and watches as the toy sinks into her over and over again, her cunt clenching around it.

It’s hypnotic, really, and Yaz doesn’t even notice the Doctor’s tight hold on the sheets until she looks back up at her face. She looks pained, crease between her brows back and lip pulled between her teeth. Yaz immediately stops her movements.

“Does it hurt?” she asks.

The Doctor shakes her head vehemently. “No! No, it’s fine,” she insists, looking down between them. “It’s s’posed to hurt a little, right?”

Yaz thinks for a second, then shakes her own head. “Not if you’re, y’know, doin’ it right,” she says.

They’re both quiet for a moment and Yaz is still literally inside of her, so she pulls out, a wet noise coming from the dildo. The Doctor makes a face.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor says quietly.

Yaz sits back on her heels again, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the Doctor’s thigh. “It’s alright, really. This type of penetration isn’t for everyone,” Yaz says, which is true. She can get off to both but she’s been with some women that just can’t.

The Doctor’s eyes flick down to Yaz’s hands starting to undo the harness and she reaches forward, sitting up. “Can we...” she trails off, then jumps off the bed. “Maybe this way?” she asks, and before Yaz can even _breathe_ she’s bent over on the bed, bracing herself on her knees and elbows and looking over at Yaz expectantly.

Yaz thinks she might literally pass out, or realize she’s in a dream.

The Doctor is bent over, waiting to be fucked, and Yaz is _nothing_ if not accommodating (to the Doctor specifically).

She stands from the bed and takes her spot behind her. She rubs the tip of the toy over the Doctor’s clit which has her burying her face in the bed, letting out a low moan. Yaz understands — she’s pretty sure if she doesn’t get off after this she will actually die. She lines the toy up and holds her hips in her hands, unable to stop herself from squeezing the soft flesh of her ass first. The Doctor sighs when Yaz spreads her and she sees her cunt fluttering already, needing to be filled apparently.

(Again, she’s nothing is not accommodating.)

She slowly pushes her hips forward and the response she gets is a lot more along the lines of how she expected her to react. Her back tenses and she clutches the sheets in both hands, face buried in the bed as she lets out a low groan.

“Is this better?” Yaz asks when she stops fully inside her, hips pressing into the Doctor’s ass.

The Doctor turns her head to the side and nods. “Much better — brilliant,” she breathes, voice hoarse. “Keep going.”

It’s all the instruction Yaz needs to pull her hips back and push back into the Doctor. She gets a soft moan for troubles and so she does it again, chasing out every single noise she can get from her.

This position seems to be working well for the Doctor — she’s practically laying on the bed, ass up in the air as she lets Yaz plow into her from behind and letting out a soft moan or grunt every time she bottoms out. Yaz starts slow, letting her get used to it, but the Doctor reaches back and grips her wrist and says, “Please, Yaz. I need it.” And really, how can Yaz resist _that_?

She speeds up and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with the Doctor’s noises (that are increasing in volume) and Yaz’s soft grunts at the exertion. She’s already sweating but you’d have to literally kill her to get her to stop now. The base of the dildo digs into her pelvis and she’s getting absolutely no friction whatsoever on her own clit but she really could not care less at this moment — all she can think about is the way the Doctor pulls her back in every time she pulls out and it makes her want to go completely feral, to fuck her into oblivion until she can’t walk for a week.

(Maybe she’ll do that later.)

“Yaz, oh Yaz, gods,” the Doctor moans, her words coming jagged through her lips. Her knuckles are white as they grip the sheets and her back tenses hard. “Yaz, I’m — soon. I’m gonna cum soon.”

Yaz leans over her body, still keeping up the relentless pace now, and grips her hair hard in one hand. She pulls the Doctor’s head back, earning a soft groan, and Yaz pants against her hair.

“Good,” she growls. Her hips slam into the Doctor, moving her with every thrust. She lets go of her hair and speeds up, feeling like an animal in heat as she ruts against her. The slick sound as she pulls out only serves to egg her on more and she steadies herself with a hand on the back of her shoulder blade. The Doctor’s eyes shut and her mouth falls open and Yaz can _feel_ her tightening around her cock, the resistance growing as she’s worked up to the peak. Her body tenses and Yaz knows she’s about to cum.

“Touch yourself,” Yaz says, the command coming out of nowhere and surprising even herself.

The Doctor’s hand immediately moves to her clit and then she’s pushed over the edge, moaning loud. “Oh, _fuck_ Yaz. _Oh gods, fuck_.”

Hearing the Doctor curse in general is a good time — and hearing her curse because of something Yaz does? Incredible.

Her back tenses and her body stills and her mouth falls open in a loud cry and one hand reaches out in front of her like she’s trying to hold on to something that isn’t there. She clenches hard around the toy slowing down inside her and Yaz can _feel_ her cunt flutter as waves of pleasure wrack through her body.

When it’s over her hands loosen on the sheets and she probably would’ve fallen limp if she wasn’t already basically laying down. Yaz slows to a stop, cock still in her, and waits as her erratic breathing evens out. She rubs her back softly with the palm previously holding her down and eventually pulls out.

She lets the dildo and harness drop to the floor and then lightly taps the Doctor’s ass with one hand. “Lay down, you’ll be more comfortable,” she says, softly pushing the Doctor towards the pillows.

The Doctor crawls up the bed, still on her stomach, and collapses in a heaving heap, head on the pillow. Yaz crawls up next to her and pokes her in the side. “You alive?”

The Doctor opens one eye and then wraps an arm around Yaz’s waist, pulling her closer. “Barely,” she says against her neck. She places an open mouthed kiss against her skin and lays her head down on her chest.

They lay there for a long while, the soft sound of traffic floating in occasionally to break the silence. Yaz scratches at the back of the Doctor’s neck and closes her eyes. She’s tired — being the one on the other end of the strap is exhausting, in all honesty. She had forgotten how much it takes out of her (she’d do it again a million times a day for the Doctor, though).

Eventually, the Doctor lifts her head from Yaz’s chest and says, “You didn’t cum.” The crease is back between her brows and it makes Yaz chuckle that _that’s_ what she’s thinking about after being railed into the mattress.

“Sure didn’t,” Yaz says, the throbbing of her cunt making itself known again.

The Doctor looks down, then back up at Yaz’s face. “Do you want to?”

Yaz pushes her down the bed before she can even finish the question and the Doctor has her mouth on her clit in seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> as always catch me @zanthetran on tumblr/twitter I post about my writing too much so y'know. fun times.


End file.
